


Après

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Series: Seconds [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Realization for Xander comes just in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Après

“Well, that’s everything.”

She tilted her head and looked critically at the contents of her trunk. It wasn’t her trunk, of course. It was rented. And small.

“Such as it is.”

Cordelia turned to face him, but found herself unable to look into his eyes.

“Thanks for helping.”  
  
“I’m really going to miss you,” Xander whispered.  
  
“Of course you will,” she said brightly, though her timbre betrayed her. “Whatever. I guess I’ll miss you too. In a way.”  
  
“Like an old Coach bag?”  
  
“Pft. Coach is classic. You don’t just dump a Coach bag.”  
  
“Could I be a classic?”  
  
“You’re something, all right. I’m sure one day science will provide an explanation.”  
  
He sighed. “Can we not do this? I don’t want to our last words to be bitter, even if they are clever.”  
  
“Not bitter," she said softly, a wistful grin on her face. "Maybe bittersweet.”  
  
“I really will miss you, Cordy.”  
  
“I’ll miss you too.”  
  
“There, now. Was that really so hard?”  
  
Finally, she was able to meet his gaze. “More than you can possibly imagine.”  
  
He heard the pain, the pain he had put there, and sighed. “Hug?”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what the hell. Okay, for old time’s sake. But no groping!”

He opened his arms and she was surprised at how quickly she fell into them, how natural and right it still felt.

“Well, maybe a little groping,” she purred.  
  
“Groping leads to kissing,” he warned.  
  
“And us with not a broom closet in sight,” she whispered, before pressing her lips to his. Several moments later, she pulled away and involuntarily licked her lips. “Still tingles.”  
  
“More than you can imagine,” he said, leering.  
  
“Gross, you cretin!” She looped her arm through his. “Now escort a lady to her car and open her door.”  
  
“Your wish is my command,” he replied, bowing.  
  
“It’s about time you got on board with my royal proclamations.”  
  
“It takes me a while, but eventually I learn.”  
  
“And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”  
  
“Arf.”

He opened her door and made a grand, sweeping gesture with his arm to indicate she should climb in. She smiled and curtsied and, once she was settled in, he closed her door and dropped into a crouch, resting his head on the window ledge. Thankfully, the window was down.   
  
She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. “So what are you going to do now, dweeb?”

She watched as his eyes dimmed, his mind searching for a suitable response, and she repressed a sigh.  
  
He gave her question considerable thought.

What _was_ he going to do?

He supposed he should return home and begin moving his things down into the basement. Tomorrow, he would start looking for a shiny new dead-end job to afford the parentally-enforced rent. In a few months, he would wave goodbye as Willow, Buffy, and Oz all toddled off to start their new lives at UC-Sunnydale.

There would be no more after-school library meetings, hopefully no more donut runs, and a very distressing lack of Deadboy-mocking time. Instead, there would be a Giles at loose ends; unlimited Willow/Oz cuteness, which would center around their new academic institution while reinforcing his own loneliness; potential new suitors for the Slayer; and loads of conversation regarding topics and people of which he knew little.

“I don’t know," he said, eyes curiously blank.  
  
She bit her lip and forced herself not to give in to the rants she wanted to deliver. He had never listened to her about his friends, his grades, or his prospects for the future, all of which she had found lacking.

She knew what his life would become: lonely days stuck in a nothing job to satisfy self-serving parents, and nights filled with danger and thankless servitude for friends who had been moving away from him for almost two years.

He deserved better than that.

She exhaled.

One more time. She would try _one_ more time to get him to see reason, and then it was out of her hands. Before she could open her mouth, however, he interrupted, which was just annoying.   
  
“Have room for one more?”  
  
He always was the only one who could ever surprise her.


End file.
